


Salvation's Destruction (2011)

by JennyB



Series: Advent 2011 [12]
Category: Yami No Matsuei
Genre: Advent Challenge 2011, Angst, Denial of Feelings, Guilt, M/M, POV Outsider, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-12
Updated: 2011-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-05 20:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennyB/pseuds/JennyB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cohen said it best when he wrote <i>Love is not a victory march. It's a cold and broken Hallelujah</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salvation's Destruction (2011)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nochick_fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nochick_fics/gifts).



> Written for Advent Challenge 2011. Prompt: Memories/Messiah
> 
> Podfic (by the lovely Kansouame ♥♥) here: [Take a Listen!](http://www.mediafire.com/?2qxqcymy2dp2lsi)

It's late when Master arrives in the mortal world. I sense his presence and immediately go to him, prowling the edge of the shadows and awaiting my orders. I can feel he's tense, but I don't sense danger. Silently I follow along after him, the oldest of his many shades. He doesn't acknowledge me. He usually doesn't. But he knows I am here, should he need me.

I know this place we're in. Now I remember what day it is. Master comes here every year. I can't read the language the billboard is printed in, but through Master I know it says _Messiah ~G.F. Handel_ Master enters the cathedral, and when he does, I wonder why he's come. I know this isn't a happy memory for him, and I don't understand why he wants to relive it every year. Master is still in his spirit form, which means that tonight he doesn't wish for anyone's company. At least mortal company. I can always see him, and I will never leave his side. He comes about halfway into the nave, then turns around and studies the organ balcony. He looks at the shadowed niche near the rafters, and then jumps up and settles himself on the railing, partially obscured by the darkness. Against the backdrop of the clerestory, he looks so much like the broken angels painted on the glass.

I slip into the inky blackness provided by the heavy wooden beams and I silently watch him. Master's posture is stiff and proper; he was a nobleman by birth, and even in death he maintains that proud bearing. Unfortunately, that staid control has also left him emotionally impotent. And Master suffers greatly because of it. He is not very good at expressing himself to let others know what he desires, and he has difficulty accepting affection from others. I think that's why he was drawn to us and why he is such a good Master. It's not to say we don't have emotions. We do. We're just a lot more detached and deliberate with how they are expressed.

The performance begins, and I know that Master is remembering the first night he came, many years ago. I know there was a time when he enjoyed coming, but now all I can feel is the weight of his despair. It resonates throughout his spirit, and since we all share a connection with him, we can all feel his sadness. Sometimes, if the emotion is particularly strong in him, we can see his thoughts too, and that makes us anxious. We wish that we could advise him, but that would require us to better understand our own feelings first. Besides, it is not our place to give him counsel. He is our Master and we are his servants, and our sole duty is to silently observe and act when commanded to.

One of my Brothers tells me that Tsuzuki is outside and asks if he should keep him from entering. I tell him no; Master would not be pleased if he were to learn we'd upset Tsuzuki. I can hear the creak of the heavy oak door downstairs, and with narrowed eyes, I peer over the balcony. I see Tsuzuki sit in a pew, though after a few minutes have passed, his eyes drift up to where Master is sitting. Immediately, I intensify the darkness surrounding him. Master made it clear he didn't want company tonight, so that includes Tsuzuki, too - unless he tells me otherwise. Master doesn't correct me for my presumptuousness, and I resume my guard. Tsuzuki looks puzzled for a moment, but stays in his seat. We know Tsuzuki is afraid of us, even with his Shikigami. As he should be. We can destroy him in an instant if we choose to. We've contemplated doing so for how he's hurt Master, but Master's will supersedes our own desires and he's forbidden it. He's ordered us to protect Tsuzuki, and we obey.

Now that Master is better hidden, I think about the night Master brought Tsuzuki here, wanting to share this experience with him. They had been partners then, and it was one of the first times I'd ever felt true joy from Master. His thoughts had been wide open to us then, too. We knew that he found Tsuzuki indescribably beautiful, and that he loved him deeply. He was excited to share a private part of his life with him, something he hadn't really done since he'd been a living being. Master believed the music would make Tsuzuki happy. Because of his feelings for Tsuzuki, it pained Master deeply to see Tsuzuki upset - something that happened with great frequency during the course of their work. And the more Master got to know him, the more he wanted to stay by his side and protect him. He wanted to be the one to make him happy. For Master, the sight of Tsuzuki's smile was the greatest balm for his tormented soul. 

We suspected then, and are positive now, that some of that chivalrous behaviour undoubtedly stemmed from his noble pride and noble blood. But for the first time in a long time, Master cared enough about someone to _want_ to protect them, too. And whether Tsuzuki knew it or not, Master had given him his whole heart. They sat together throughout the entire performance holding hands. Master was deliriously happy that night, and he was going to be brave, face his uncertainties, and tell Tsuzuki how he felt before they headed home.

That did not happen.

During the Hallelujah Chorus at the end of the second part, Master felt Tsuzuki squeeze his hand, and when he looked over, he saw Tsuzuki crying. It was the first time any of us felt fear from Master. He asked Tsuzuki what was wrong, but the only thing Tsuzuki said was that he needed to go outside. Master was devastated when he heard that, and for a long time after, he blamed himself for bringing Tsuzuki to see Messiah. He said he should have known how powerful the music might be on a fragile soul and he hated himself for making Tsuzuki cry, even if indirectly. Master's guilt consumed him, and he set about convincing himself that he didn't want Tsuzuki. In the days that followed, he often thanked the kami that he hadn't made a grievous error in confessing his feelings, and he swore he never would. He felt that Tsuzuki would be better off with someone who treated him better. And then, Master and Tsuzuki stopped being partners and for a long time after that, we didn't see Master's thoughts anymore. But we could feel his spirit, and we can still feel the love Master feels for him. It bothers us to see Master reduced to a fragment of what he had been, and for that we blame Tsuzuki. Our loyalty is to Master, and anyone who hurts him is our enemy.

I've been to this performance enough times to know that the Hallelujah Chorus is next, and I also know that Master is going to leave now. Ever since that night with Tsuzuki, he has never stayed to listen to it. It upsets him greatly to hear it; even now, just _anticipating_ it, I can feel his grief. It's strong enough for me to see that he's thinking about Tsuzuki. I want to tell him that Tsuzuki is down in the audience, but before I can I hear a soft rustling of wool, and then Master is gone. He's teleported himself to a park two blocks away. A small breeze passes through the church as I transport myself to be by his side.

He's made himself visible, and he's sitting on a bench and staring unseeingly at the fountain. I remember this place, too. There used to be a kiosk that sold hot milk tea and dango, and Master often bought both for Tsuzuki when they worked together. Master sits there, unmoving, for a long time. I know he's remembering the times when he was happier. I find myself wishing that we could make him happy, but we are nothing but servants. How arrogant of me to presume we even could. I feel a shift in the energy around us, and I sit up, on guard. My eyes narrow when I see Tsuzuki appear, and I can feel Master's sadness even though his expression is blank. I wonder if Tsuzuki is remembering, too.

"Tatsumi?" Tsuzuki says as he approaches and he sits next to Master.

"Hello, Tsuzuki." Master's voice is pleasant, but cool. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I um...I saw in the newspaper that Messiah was being performed tonight. It's been...a while since I've seen it, and I thought that maybe..." He smiles awkwardly. "Did you see it? It was very good."

"I saw part of it, yes. But I left shortly before the end of Part Two."

"Before the Hallelujah?" Tsuzuki's eyes go wide. "But that's the best part!"

Master gives him a strange look. "The best part? I remember you needing to leave when you heard it."

Tsuzuki smiles again. "Only because I was so overwhelmed by what I'd heard. But in a good way. I don't remember ever feeling so at peace with life as I did then. I never did thank you for bringing me to see it." Master nods, but doesn't say anything. "Maybe next year, we can go see it together?"

I perk my head up when I feel a sense of hope from Master.

"I don't know, Tsuzuki. We'll see. It will depend on my schedule."

"Oh. Yes, I suppose that makes sense." Tsuzuki looks disappointed.

"But maybe we could--" Master cuts himself off. There's a ripple of anxiety through us when we feel a sudden, overwhelming sense of doubt and fear from him. "It's getting late."

"Tatsumi?" Tsuzuki lays a hand on Master's arm. "What was it you were going to say?"

I can feel the different emotions flicker through Master's spirit -- joy, apprehension, regret, sadness. I feel him push that small inkling of happiness away, and then all I can feel from him is darkness. He gives Tsuzuki a small smile. "It was nothing. Just a foolish idea better left unsaid." Very gently, he brushes Tsuzuki's bangs from his eyes, and then removes the hand from his arm. "Come on; I'll walk you home. We can get a coffee from the café."

They stare at each other for a long time. Eventually Tsuzuki nods. "Okay. I'd like that."

I'm confused as I skulk along in the shadows close to Master, and when Tsuzuki steps up to the window to place his order, I creep forward just a little and nudge Master's hand. I don't understand why he lied. _Master? Why?_ I feel a searing heat burn through my body, and I shrink back into the shadows to escape the pain. I overstepped my bounds, and Master punished me for it.

"Don't. It's too late now. Too much time has passed." He turns his back on me then, and I feel nothing from him. I know Master is deliberately blocking himself from us.

It's blasphemous for me to think it, but I feel that Master is wrong. I can see the way they look at each other, but they are fragile humans and guard their vulnerabilities. Fear compels them. Keeps them from taking risks. They prefer to remain at a stalemate. But I won't dare try to voice my thoughts again. My current wounds are nothing compared to the pain I'd feel if I did.

I know that next year, Master and I will repeat this night again. Even if there are small changes in execution, we will still repeat it year after year until the end of time. Or until Master finally forgives himself and allows himself to be happy. I see him lean close to Tsuzuki as they walk, and I know they both want more than what they have. I find myself hoping that maybe one day Master will start making new memories instead of just reliving old ones.


End file.
